Warnings: Beyond slash, Albel being Albel, and sarcasm? This is all pretty tame. Some use of foul language.

Disclaimer: These characters are not my property and I am not seeking to make any money through this little romp. Just playing with the toys.

Notes: For those new to the party - hi! For those, uh, old to the party - wow, it's been a while since I updated this thing, huh. Well, brand spank new authors notes of explanation in chapter eight.

The title comes from me scanning my playlist in a desperate attempt to find a name. “Knockin’ Down Hesitation” is a song from Sailor Moon, either the live action or the musical, I forget which. Anyway, enjoy the mental image of Albel in a Sera Fuku.

•••

Albel Nox was not a man to be trifled with. Dozens held the fear of his crimson eyes deep in their hearts. Mortal men quelled before his sword and claw. He stalked the nightmares of women and children.

The toaster did not seem to understand this.

Thousands of years of 4D driven evolution and technology did not free the population of the Eternal Sphere from one simple, undeniable fact - toasters will never become superfluous, and were created to make man humble. Also, forks are not to go anywhere near them. Not even if they refuse to surrender the toast.

Albel Nox did not seem to understand this.

Fayt was forcibly reminded why he tried to keep their stays on developed planets to a minimum - beyond futile attempts to remain stealthy in the face of media attention. For the most part, Albel held a wary respect for technology - as long as it did what he demanded and got him clean, fed, and what not efficiently and quickly. It was when technology blatantly refused to bow down to Albel’s Innate Superiority that problems…arose.

Since Fayt didn’t fancy explaining to the hotel owner exactly why they had destroyed a toaster and an electric outlet – not that anyone would really yell at the Savior of the Galaxy for busted kitchen appliances, but still - he decided that diplomatically persuading Albel to put down the cutlery and back away was a fine idea. In the end, however, unplugging the toaster and removing it from Albel’s possession by force was much more effective than any sort of diplomacy.

Cradling the abused kitchen appliance to his chest, Fayt made a hasty mental check list of what they needed before he could drag Albel off this planet and onto one where electricity hadn’t even been thought of yet. More medical supplies, new boots for himself and a sewing kit for Albel (who refused to buy new clothing, but had unexpectedly proven himself proficient in mending what he had brought from Elicoor), a shower for both of them.

But not together, Fayt amended hastily in his mind, ignoring the eyebrow Albel raised in regards to his sudden blush. Lately, little bits of Fayt’s mind had often decided to natter on without him, regardless of the PG rating he’d like to keep on his internal monologue.

“Sophia wants us to visit, while we’re here,” Fayt said.

With earth being…slightly chaotic (evidently getting blown up and recreated wasn’t good for a healthy balanced planet), Sophia, her parents, and Fayt’s mother had relocated to this delightful hunk of rock.

Albel looked like he’d rather jump off a cliff onto uncomfortably pointy rocks than go anywhere near Sophia or warm family dinners.

“The girl is a prattling fool.”

Fayt knew better than being offended by Albel calling people names. As long as he relied on his stock of fools, maggots, and various unflattering adjectives, he probably didn’t mean it with any particular vehemence. When he started getting creative, then you had to worry about who he was going to maim horribly.

“She’s still my friend,” Fayt reminded him, trying to put a stern warning into his voice and failing miserably.

Even if Albel wasn’t going to maim her anytime soon, he and Sophia did not get along. It was like sticking a cat in a canary’s cage and trying to tell it not to eat the bird, and the canary was unusually adept at beating things to death. Albel couldn’t resist baiting and mocking her, and Fayt strongly suspected that if Sophia got sneered at one more time she was going to punch Albel. Or knee him in unpleasant places. Either way, it wouldn’t end well.

Fayt cleverly avoided leaving them alone in the same room. Ever.

And in all honesty, he wasn’t keen on the visit himself. He missed Sophia and his mother, certainly, but lately both had taken to nagging him about enrolling in a new college and finishing his education. They didn’t seem to understand his need to take a break and rethink his major. There was no way in this universe he could now become a symbologist. The mere thought made him slightly queasy.

Turns out saving reality as the universe knows it has a tendency to change people, fancy that.

“Tell her you forgot.”

“She’d kill me!”

Albel snorted. “I sincerely doubt that. You defeated the Creator of our universe - one little girl should not frighten you.”

“You obviously don’t spend enough time around women,” Fayt said. “They have ways of making you guilty. Even if you haven’t done anything.”

Albel seemed to consider this, then shrugged and unbelted his sword. “I’m taking a shower.”

Blinking after him, Fayt tried to understand the reason for the non

sequitur while simultaneously Thinking Not Dirty Thoughts.

Fayt had been quick to introduce Albel to daily bathing and the novelty of showers, and Albel had decided that such things were the true mark of an advanced civilization. Showers and body wash. Fayt was not going to ask why Albel had suddenly become enamored with the scent of lavender body wash, as some things are just not meant to be known. He figured it had something to do with purple.

He returned the toaster to its rightful place on the counter, happy to see it none the worse for the wear. Fayt was trying to decide if the milk in the fridge had gone bad or not when he was suddenly struck by how…domestic they were being.

It was better when they were camping, of course. Then they had schedules and chores and knew what the other was going to do, rather than the sort of chaos developed planets always seemed to push on them. But still, it was homey, and comfortable, and a little, well, strange.

Who else in the universe knew that Albel the Wicked could sew, and cooked up a mean batch of scrambled eggs, but couldn’t boil ramen if his life depended on it? And, of course, no one else knew his fascination with doing laundry. Albel had added ‘dryers’ to his list of wonderful technological advancements, probably second after showers.

And people accused Fayt of being overly fastidious.

Halfway through a chug of milk (not yet expired), something occurred to him that got him dairy product snorted out of his nose.

I wonder who the wife is.

“I am never telling Albel I thought that,” Fayt muttered.

Wiping his leaky nose on his sleeve, Fayt went to change and wondered if he should wear something that wouldn’t get him nagged at, or something that would shock them into silence. He briefly contemplated stealing one of Albel’s skirts, but decided purple just wasn’t his color.

•••

“And don’t threaten anyone. Dead things are not ‘house warming gifts’, the décor does not need more agony. Don’t mention - ”

“I get it,” Albel snapped. “I will attempt to be ‘polite’ to these… fools and maggots.”

Fayt added, “ don’t call anyone fool, maggot, insect or any variation there of.”

Albel looked distinctly thwarted. If being thwarted involved almost-pouting, but Albel had long ago informed Fayt that he, being Albel the Wicked, did not pout. Small children pout, whiny girls pout, people with scary nick-names like Wicked or Bloody or even Really Damn Annoying certainly did not. Fayt had pretended to believe him.

Sophia answered the door, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that her doorbell had just become victim of Albel’s claw (Fayt would one day explain to Albel that ‘oops’ was not a valid excuse, especially when you didn’t mean it), and beamed at the pair.

“Fayt!” she exclaimed, enveloping him in a hug that he happily returned. “You don’t visit enough! Albel!”

“Hug me and die.”

Fayt had the strong suspicion that one day he was going to find somebody’s body hidden in a basement. He wasn’t quite sure whose yet. Sophia ushered them inside and into a stylish, well decorated living room.

“Mom and Aunt Ryoko are out shopping, and dad’s working late,” she told them, “so it’s just me!”

Albel twitched.

Fayt shifted uncomfortably. “So, how’s your new high school, Sophia?”

Two hours later, Albel seemed to be battling the urge to doze off with his need to be ever vigilant against any and all perceived threats, and Fayt had to wonder if he’d ever cared who was dating who in high school. Then he remembered where he’d spent a lot of high school (his locker), and decided it was best to just not think about it.

He’d like to go find some of his classmates and introduce them to the fact that he was the physical embodiment of Destruction. Or just introduce them to Albel.

He spent the rest of the visit constantly reminding himself how much he loved Sophia.

•••

“Where are we?”

“I have no idea,” Fayt informed Albel cheerfully. “Far away from teenaged girls.”

Something strange had happened to Sophia once she’d hit thirteen. All those innocent years climbing trees and attempting to kill each other with dares, and then suddenly she was wearing sparkly stuff on her face and trying to make him take her to the movies. He kept hoping she’d grow out of it. He loved her more for her than he did for any amount of glitter eye shadow.

He finished ‘camouflaging’ their small transport ship, which they used on their little space adventures. Fayt cheerfully ignored the UP3 these days, as he figured by now he knew enough about being subtle that he didn’t have to worry about interfering too much.

Besides, in what sort of video game did the hero get arrested?

Grabbing his accessories out of his traveling bag, he clipped on his bracelets and smiled at the familiar feeling of the battle gear. This was the life, especially since he didn’t often have to do the saving-the-universe thing much anymore.

The planet they were on appeared to be close in geography to Japan, though Fayt had never seen Japan without the millions of office buildings rising majestically against the horizon. Or something. He didn’t really know if he should be applying the adjective ‘majestic’ to office buildings…

Albel prodded him the back (mercifully using his flesh hand). “Get a move on, fool.”

“You’re in a hurry considering we don’t even know where we’re going,” Fayt said.

“This way,” Albel intoned seriously in his Captain Voice as he adjusted the Crimson Scourge’s sheath and then set off west down the hill.

Fayt, figuring it was as good a direction to get lost in as any, shrugged and followed him. He hoped they’d get to a village tonight, as sleeping in the same tent with Albel really wore down on his teenaged self control.

Nineteen year old boys were not built to be in control of their hormones.

Not that his hormones and Albel had any connection what so ever, in any way shape or form. He was just…sick of being kicked every night, when Albel had nightmares, that was it. Though sometimes he wondered if going to sleep with someone beside him would help make Albel’s nightmares go away, because that had always worked with Fayt as a kid.

However, suggesting to Albel that all he needed in life was a hug would probably not go over well.

“I think I see a village.” Albel’s voice was thick with disdain, but that was as per usual. “If you could call that a village.”

Fayt jogged slightly to catch up with him and looked down to the base of the hill, where a small gathering of wooden houses stood huddled together in the midst of strangely colored fields.

“Well, it’s better than nothing. Try not to make anyone important angry.”

“Only if they don’t deserve it.”

“Strangely enough, your definition of ‘deserves it’ seems to differ from the rest of the universes’,” Fayt said.

Had anyone else taken that tone of sarcasm with Albel, they would have found themselves admiring their own intestines before they died, but Fayt managed to get away with nothing more than a petulant glare directed at him. He smiled at Albel and slid the rest of the way down the slope on his heels, grinning as Albel snorted and followed behind more sedately.

By the time he got down the hill, children and dogs had already come out to meet them, the former drooling and the latter barking, and Albel probably wished he could take his chances with the dogs. Fayt dropped to one knee so he could see eye level with one of the fascinated children, who gawked at him with the unabashed curiosity of the young.

“Hello, is this your village?”

“Yeees.” The child’s tone of voice implied that this was quite possibly the stupidest thing she’d ever been asked in her six long years of life. She blinked and leaned to the left slightly so she could look at Albel, who was attempting to keep a small boy from flipping up his skirt. “Is that your wife?”

Fayt nearly fell over laughing.